


if the heavens ever did speak

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Punk, Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Song: Take Me To Church (Hozier), Unresolved Emotional Tension, We Who Wait Spinoff, not exactly a song fic, preacher son liam, punk Theo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 10:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: Liam is sure he heard the song before. Somewhere. On someone else's voice. He doesn't remember the lyrics because he doesn't exactly has a musical ear. They are just words and a melody behind and that's all he needs to know, right?But maybe he should pay more attention next time.[ We Who Wait spin off ]





	if the heavens ever did speak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfenboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfenboy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [We Who Wait](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542164) by [wolfenboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfenboy/pseuds/wolfenboy). 



> This is a spin-off from the marvellous work of wolfenboy,  
> my favorite french toast in the world.  
> So all the credit goes to them.
> 
>  
> 
> I've been procastinating this one for far too long,  
> so I hope I haven't lost my spark with words.  
> If I did, I regret nothing.
> 
>  
> 
> This work is a spinoff, yes, but it doesn't contain any sort of spoilers nor it's directly related to anything happening on the fic.  
> I just got a bit obsessed with the story and I wanted more punk!Theo so, yeah.  
> This can be read as a piece alone, for anyone who isn't reading wolfenboy's work.  
> That doesn't mean I will not deeply judge you for not doing so.
> 
>  
> 
> It's not a beta'd work.  
> It doesn't exactly make sense either.  
> Listen, you clicked here, so you can't blame me.  
> Nonetheless, enjoy!

 

 

 

It hasn’t been so long since Liam’s life was struck like a thunder by Theo’s presence. It still courses under his skin, beating alive and festing of the darkest and most secrets corners of his soul, like it would be expected from a son of anarchy and chaos.

A prowling beast, with eyes full of fire, ready to claim a victim.

More than once Liam felt like he would be eaten alive and his bones would be spit down to an infertile ground, left to perish. That the prophecies of his father would finally come to take his head, of sinners reaching a gruesome end.

It hasn't happened yet.

Not in the way he expected.

Instead granted with a sight that only a selected few owned, Liam came to see behind the curtains at the other sides of the seemingly monster. Incongruous sides. Different sides. Sides that shouldn’t match because fire is supposed to destroy and not to nurture, but Liam would be tainted by the sin of lie if he claimed his soul is not being fed by the warmth the older boy's fire provide.

He just has to remember that _there’s always a price to pay when you treat with beasts_ , said his dad in one of the many times he prepared a speech, eyes always glued on Liam’s. As if trying to mock him. Or condemn him. A rabid dog would let you pet it, but then might try to bite. A lone wolf might welcome your company until the scorching cold of winter comes knocking at the door and it feels the need to eat. A lone boy with no qualms about death, with not bone or dream left to be broken might see you as his equal until you take the wrong step.

And Liam was never one to know where he’s going, but he hasn’t been bitten nor eaten in the cold dead winter nor taken the wrong step.

_Yet._

He always has to remind himself that _yet_ is not a possibility but a reality and that the boy with stitches in both his clothes and skin is just a feverish dream to lose.

It shocks Liam to the very core and mystifies him, because that's the only plausible reaction you can get when you see who acts like a god, a king, a ruler of a world that’s unknown for the naked eye, do mundane and humane things like working in a chinese restaurant, feeding strays or painting the nails of a boy that just have void inside his head. Simple things. Normal things. But each one of them held something special, something that kept Theo unique and that made him feel like an intruder. Because even if he had gotten an unspoken invitation, the defenses were set down low and he himself held as much power over the other boy as the other way around.

More good than he has seen in a lifetime, packed behind the image of fierce anarchy. _History is written by the hand of the winners and the powerfuls_ , he heard a teacher say once. But what if faith works in the same way too. He still can't understand why is he the only one getting a whiplash of emotions. He wonders if that's the way old apostles felt when they saw the son of a god they were supposed to love under a layer of fear. Maybe. Not quite. Liam feels something else simmering down within him, lulling in a sense of overcome barriers. Of being more, thinking more. Feeling more.

Or maybe it’s just Theo’s voice.

The lyrics have been nonexistent since Liam found him, sitting by his own in the darkest corner of the room with a beaten up guitar on his lap that owns stripes of duct tape and stickers on all the sizes like proof of being truly alive. The humming has been luring him in slowly, like a siren’s call to his death. The chords sound somehow familiar even if Liam’s sure he never heard them before. Or maybe is just the power of Theo’s presence, there, that caught his gaze once more. His mind. Like a black hole, catching all the light around and making him the focus of attention.

For a moment, the sense of being not welcomed flares in his mind, but Liam soon pushes it away to the deepest corners of his mind. Curiosity is a devil that inches you further into chaos, but Liam has been walking through Hell enough time to be immune to consequences. But Theo is just letting him be there. Or maybe, used to an audience that either claims and aches for him, he’s not even conscious of the fact that there is a set of eyes glued to his frame and to the leisured movement of his hand over the chords.

“The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you,” Theo mutters hoarsely under his breath and Liam can feel a shiver run down his back and take hold of his whole body for a second, “I was born sick, but I love it…,” the hint of a smile, making Liam shiver with something he can yer name, “Command me to be well”

The sounds are nothing alike to the furious beast that gets on stage to pridefully feed the anger of a crowd. Where Theo looks caged, free to eat and be eaten in mouthfuls of rage and disgust. Nothing like that. This is a new freedom. A different one. There’s no buzzing in between Liam’s thoughts, just a calming silence that makes him want to reach out even if he knows that the fire could burn his fingertips if he gets too close.

That strange faith that his father talks about so much ever sunday morning, in front of a community that nods mindlessly like puppets on a show. That same one that Liam could never feel, that could never reach him. The sense of purposefulness. Of not being lost anymore. Of not being alone.

The divine call.

Liam feels it now.

 _Amen_.

 _Amen_.

 _Amen_.

The world turns on its end and tilts completely when Theo peels his gaze away from the instrument, the floor and his own reflectiveness to pierce Liam in place. Dark green forged with fire, something that Liam can’t name looking back at him. Exposing him. Tearing him open. Layers upon layers of himself being torn apart to expose his core at the only thing that seems to make sense now.

The humming starts again, Theo’s gaze tears away and Liam wonders how something that lack words can sound so defying. So raw. And so smitten. Or maybe that’s just him, needing to stop himself from taking any step further into the ill lighted corner Theo is in. Yearning to be near and catch the conjure of words out of thin silence. Eat them up. Cherish them, even if they aren’t for him. But suddenly Theo’s voice picks ups again, hoarse and open. Gaze snapping up once more, making Liam’s legs waver under him with the promise of kneeling over the floor and make him beg for absolution.

“We've a lot of starving faithful,” Theo snarls but it doesn’t look angry. It’s the face of someone that’s starving, craving and Liam, not for the first time, sees himself reflected. Like the other side of the coin. The dull side of the mirror. “That looks tasty, that looks plenty,” Theo’s gaze fall down to his lips, overcoming Liam with the need to lick them. Trace them just to have the minuted power of having Theo follow the movement with his eyes, the same way Liam follows his presence around any other moment.

“This is hungry work“

When Theo looks back up again, baby blues colliding with green, Liam feels like he signed a sentence. One he doesn’t seek rendition of.

“Take me to church,” Theo’s sultry voice sings and it could perfectly be a whisper but assaults Liam’s soul like the loudest scream he ever heard, “I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife,” the voice gets tainted with a silent plea, wavering and making Liam ache for a resolution he doesn’t have. For an absolution he can’t provide. For something. Anything.

“Offer me that deathless death, good God, let me give you my life”

His father’s voice echoes somewhere deep down, where he lets memories and thoughts to die. A preach about God’s name not being said in vain, not being spit into the wind without a reason. But Theo’s voice holds a reverence, a power that Liam isn’t sure he ever heard before.

Maybe that’s how heaven sounds like.

“No masters or kings when the ritual begins, there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin”

There’s the hint of a smirk, not enough to make it visible but Liam knows it’s there. It makes Theo’s voice lit up with something that he can’t describe because words for a moment like this doesn’t seem to exist yet.

“In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene,” his voice gets louder and louder, making Liam wonder who is he trying to so desperately call. What is Theo trying to achieve. What he is seeking. Only to get quieter, softer on the edges again, putting Liam into a fake ease. “Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

Busted up hands with scars from battles Liam doesn’t know and ink ebbed into the skin that tells a story he hopes has a fulfilling ending caress the chords of a guitar in a rough way. He wonders if it’s meant to be something, the way Theo’s hands tremble at times, where the melody turns softer and pleading. The way they harden, as if scared, when the boy’s voice raises with the strength of his soul trying to reach for something. For someone. A soul that his father would say it’s tainted. The one thing Theo would probably agree on, but that Liam can only see it shine.

“Amen,” Theo mumbles, voice trembling as it pained him. As if it was charged with something else, other unspoken words that Liam is supposed to decode.“Amen,” this time Liam follows in silence, lips moving to match Theo’s, as if they were chanting for the same thing. And maybe they are. “Amen”

Pink hair is now falling messily over Theo’s face, the sound of the guitar playing long gone. Just the echo of their breathing, both elaborated and erratic but for completely different reasons. Liam feels like they’re sharing a secret, something he needs to protect with his whole being even if there aren’t words being spoken.

There’s a smile on Theo’s lips again, softer this time. Lacking that edge of teasing that makes Liam’s blood simmer. This is a new edge, once he recalls from a stray cat being fed scraps of food. Maybe he’s the stray now, being fed scraps of attention.

Or maybe he just found his new religion.

Something new to believe in.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Version of the song to listen to  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4BBM1KaoWM
> 
>  
> 
> You can scream at me in the comments in every language you want.  
> I swear I know how to use Google Translate and other translators.


End file.
